Just a number?

This week I turned 35. It feels weird to say that. How did I become a middle-aged woman without ever feeling like a grown up? Andrai took me to dinner for my birthday and we were talking about age. I asked him, as he has a daughter who is about to turn 18, if he feels like a grown up yet. He said he does, but that he doesn't feel his age; he feels like he's in his 20's. I guess what they say is true--age really is just a number.

As for my relationship, we're still hanging on...though sometimes it feels like its by a very thin thread. On a couple of occasions (this morning being one of them) he held me tightly as he cried on my shoulder, but he won't tell me what is causing him so much pain. I'd like to think it has something to do with betraying my love for him, because that would mean that he really does love me and is genuinely sorry for what he's been doing. Or at the very least, that he's conflicted about it. I think he never expected to feel about anyone the way he feels about me, and that he can't get out of the life he has been so accustomed to living all these years. Even though I have much more proof than I need that he hasn't been faithful to me, I keep holding on, hoping for the day when he makes his decision to be with just me...the only woman who has ever shown him unconditional love.

I'm 35, and perhaps none the wiser. But maybe wisdom and love don't mix well.